


owe you nothing (give me something)

by kingsofneon



Category: One Piece
Genre: Bondage, Consensual Non-Consent, Dead Dove: Do Not Eat, Fucked Up, M/M, Object Insertion, Rape Roleplay
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-19
Updated: 2021-01-19
Packaged: 2021-03-17 07:36:08
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,825
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28845441
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kingsofneon/pseuds/kingsofneon
Summary: Sabo gets captured by a "Marine"  who decides he's owed something for Sabo's release. It goes about as well as one can expect.
Relationships: Portgas D. Ace/Sabo
Comments: 22
Kudos: 56





	owe you nothing (give me something)

**Author's Note:**

> lowkey based off this piece of art by @okami-no-tsumi   
> (https://okami-no-tsumi.tumblr.com/post/176042942330/acesabo-sin-fo-dirtyshankings-au-where-ace-became)
> 
> ALSO this is fucked so watch urself if u have uncomfies

“Oh, cool. You’re awake.”

There’s a tapping noise in the background: arrhythmical and bored. Too light to be knuckles, too heavy to be a pen. Discreetly, Sabo shifts and finds that his wrists are strung up and his hands forced into awkward fists. It’s better than the realisation that his legs are open, however, tight cuffs around his thighs pulling upward, and rope around his ankles keeping his legs spread. 

“Hey.” The tapping stops, and then a cold, heavy pipe thumps into the middle of his stomach. Sabo jolts in surprise and his eyes fly open to catch on a Marine’s parade whites. “Stop playing possum - I know you’re awake.”

He huffs, stomach still aching faintly from the blow. “What’s with this wake up call? I was so comfortable before you started playing bad cop.”

Sabo watches those familiar lips twitch, then smooth back out into a cocky sneer. “You’re the criminal, here,” the Marine says, thumping a pipe into their open palm, and Sabo frowns.

“That’s _mine,”_ he blurts, instinctive protectiveness flaring in him, but when he tries to get it back, the chains laced around his wrists pull him to a stop.

“Whatcha gonna do to get it back, Dragonclaw?” The Marine asks with a leer. “‘Cause it’s real well-balanced. I never saw the appeal of non-traditional weaponry, but you’re not dangerous for nothing.”

“How ‘bout I promise not to break you in half when I get out of these?” Sabo says, smiling politely, and the Marine laughs.

“Let’s play a game instead. It’ll be fun, buddy.” That cocky sneer is starting to grate on Sabo’s nerves. How was it that every marine always knew how to pull off that shitty, entitled look? “Come on, I’ll start. I’m Ace. And you are?”

“Bored to fucking _death_.” Sabo grits out.

“Thought you wanted the pipe back,” the Marine - _Ace,_ and Sabo’ll commit that to memory if only so he knows who to hunt down _-_ says with a sigh. “Come on Chief, boats’ll take ages to get here.”

Sabo startles again, this time at this sudden bite of information Ace has relinquished. “What?” he says, and Ace cocks his head innocently.

“Oh, so now you want to play?”

“No,” Sabo spits, and Ace only laughs.

“Everyone on base knows the Chief likes playing games. Come on.”

“You’re a Revolutionary?”

“Your name?”

“ _Sabo,”_ he grits out, because it’s not information that wouldn’t be known, if this Marine really is one of theirs, and Ace beams.

“Nice to meet you officially, Chief,” Ace says, grinning, “D’you know why you’re here?”

Sabo grits his teeth. _Some idiot hated his assignment and decided to fuck me over for kicks?_

“I have some thoughts.”

“The local specialty is soporoberry. It’s a pretty powerful sedative, and you ate about five times your body weight of the stuff; I was just lucky.” Ace grins, showing teeth, and he steps closer to Sabo, resting the pipe against Sabo’s sternum. “And then, did you know what? Everybody thought I should get a _reward_ for catching a Revolutionary.”

“Wow,” Sabo drawls flatly. “Lucky you.”

“Lucky _you,_ Chief.” Ace corrects, pulling the pipe back. It snags on Sabo’s boxers, dragging them lower down his hips, and Sabo’s eyes go wide. “I said, oh, sir, _please_ give me first shot at trying to get info out of him. I’ve always _wanted_ to do an interrogation. And my Commanding Officer said sure, so I got you alone, all to myself.”

Sabo tugs again on the cuffs, pointedly. “And so you strung me up, huh?”

“Well, you see Chief, it’s your own fault you got caught. And I just think that you should pay me back for blowing my cover to get you out.”

_Asshole!_ Sabo thinks, catching the glee on Ace’s face, and he bares his teeth. “Well _I_ ‘just think’ that you should have some respect for your superiors,” he spits on a low, cold breath. “And you should get me the fuck out of here _now_.”

“Oh, but what if someone comes in to check, Chief?”

Ace has absolutely mastered the innocent look. It’s fucking unfair, how easy he can pull it off and look _pretty_. Sabo can feel his heart beat faster, and Ace shifts to lay his palm on Sabo’s stomach, fingertips gently tracing patterns that make Sabo shiver.

“If someone comes in to check,” he says, and thanks the stars that his voice isn’t near as breathless as he currently feels, “they will find you unconscious and a set of shattered cuffs. No points for imagination on that _\- fuck_!”

Sabo jolts upward as Ace swings the pipe over his shoulder and hits Sabo’s inner thigh, the bruising blossom of pain making him heave in a ragged breath.

“You know what else they say around base?” Ace says, eyes on Sabo’s reaction, eyes _sharp_ as Sabo tries to calm his thundering heart, “that the Chief _really_ likes it rough.”

“I’m a fan of camping under the stars, what can I say?” Sabo spits, and Ace laughs. The pipe taps - once, twice - and Sabo braces himself-

Ace throws one leg over Sabo’s knee, getting leverage to twist his hand in Sabo’s boxers, and then there’s the quick flare of burning fabric and Ace throws away a scrap of tattered material. Sabo yelps, instinctively, and tries to close his legs, but the sharp tug against the cuffs makes him hiss.

“Oh,” Ace says, reverent and gleeful, and he traces his fingertips up Sabo’s half-hard cock. “Guess you can trust some rumours after all.”

Sabo shivers under the careful administration, Ace’s familiar hand warm against his skin, and tries not to buck up into the touch. “You’ll lose that hand,” he promises, glaring, and Ace grins up at him.

“Chief, it’ll be a war wound that’s well worth it.”

Sabo bares his teeth, but Ace just grins wider, and shifts to settle himself between Sabo’s legs, his knees pressed against the muscle of Sabo’s thigh to hold him open. The chains do a good enough job already; the press of bone just makes Sabo squirm at the stretch, tossing his head back and biting his lip to stop his moan. _Fuck,_ he feels exposed like this, especially in comparison to Ace’s pristine, well-pressed uniform.

A soothing hand runs along his side, tracing the jut of his hip and thumbing over his upper thigh, and a moment later he catches his breath and looks into Ace’s eyes. _Okay?_ he seems to ask, a hint of concern on his face, and Sabo just grins back, feral.

“Me ripping your hand off with my teeth is going to take about a minute,” he says, “that’s not a _war wound.”_

Ace’s expression morphs into an equally wicked grin, and then he shifts it into a pout. “Come on Chief, just let me take some thanks. I worked real hard here, it’s a shame to give it up for nothing.”

“Pride in the cause,” Sabo shoots back, and Ace heaves a dramatic sigh.

“Yeah, I figured you’d say that. _Idealism._ It’s kind of a good look for you, though. Makes you look very inspiring.” Ace slowly grinds up against him, and Sabo notes that the uniform may look pristine, but Ace’s cock is a lot harder than his. “I had a different idea in mind.”

“I can tell,” Sabo says disapprovingly, and Ace grins at him even wider. Excitement makes a gentle thrum under his blood, and Sabo holds his breath as Ace moves steadily against him.

He’s already slick and stretched, eager for whatever Ace had planned for this encounter, and his eyes flicker shut so he doesn’t have to look at Ace’s face. So he isn’t tempted to say _fuck_ this and beg Ace to fuck him.

A slight woosh belies Ace flipping the pipe again, and then he stops entirely. Sabo opens his eyes.

Ace is looking at the pipe contemplatively, but Sabo can see, under the edges of that expression, that Ace is already sure of what he’s doing. His heart stops, mouth parting, and Ace takes a look at him at smirks.

“You did want your pipe back, Chief,” Ace says, the words slow with purpose, and Sabo is _shaking_ at the very idea. And, for a moment, he can play the fool. If it nets him _this-_

_“_ I do,” Sabo says. “Preferably in my hand so I can beat you with it.”

“So mean,” Ace says, and then shifts back. Another fancy flip around the back of his hand, and then the rounded tip of Sabo’s pipe presses against him like a promise. His breath catches.

“ _Hey_ ,” he growls, lowly, knowing he sounds too eager, “what are you-”

“What does it look like, Chief? If you don’t want _me_ to fuck you, why shouldn’t I get a helping hand? I want to see you fucked open on _something._ ”

“ _Ace,”_ he pleads, and Ace catches his eye. For a moment he grins like normal; excited, pleased, wanting, _vicious,_ and then Sabo cries out as the pipe slides into him, stretching him wide around the cold metal. He squirms, fighting against the cuffs as useless swears and moans fall from his lips, and then Ace’s palm presses him down and the last curve pops in.

Sabo _howls._

“Oh, Sabo,” Ace says, reverent, but Sabo can barely hear him; can only focus on the sweaty feeling of uselessness and heaving breaths to calm his racing heart, can only feel the wicked stretch of his _own fucking pipe_ pressed inside him. Ace pets at his side, comfortingly, but just when Sabo thinks he may be able to catch his breath, Ace shifts the pipe and Sabo cries out. The edge drags against him, stretching him open wide and easy, and then-

His vision almost goes black as it presses against his prostate, a ragged noise torn from his throat. Cum splatters on his belly, too fast for him to even register, but- oh fuck, shit, Ace hasn’t _moved_ the pipe. The pressure is almost too much to _bear_ , sharp and poignant, and he’s full, full, full, and _cold,_ and _hot,_ and _shaking_ and-

“Want me to fuck you _now_?” Ace asks, shifting the pipe again to make Sabo whine like it’s the end of the world, rubbing over that easy, untamed spot, and Sabo barely manages to shake his head.

“Fuck off,” he slurs, the words dragged from his throat, and he can feel unswallowed drool slip from the edge of his lip. _Fuck,_ sparks are still dancing on the edge of his vision; his cock is _throbbing_ as every breath presses the pipe against him, and his movements make it bob and shift.

Ace heaves a heavy, sad sigh. “Man, that’s too bad, Chief. I guess you can just hang out here until you change your mind.”

The sound of Ace’s nail ringing against the pipe is entirely drowned up by Sabo yelling as he cums again.

“Have _fun.”_

**Author's Note:**

> may be deleted next week so u have permish to save this if u want


End file.
